


Not For Mine

by singerofsimplesongs



Series: Scenes from Season Nine [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 8x23 coda, Kinda, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singerofsimplesongs/pseuds/singerofsimplesongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas has been having nightmares. Everyone knows it. Sam keeps saying someone should talk to him, but Dean knows better. If Cas needs help, he’ll ask for it. Nightmares are not something you want to just intrude upon. They take time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not For Mine

Cas has been having nightmares. Dean knows it. Sam knows it. Kevin knows it. They can see it in the way Cas stares into his coffee cup every morning, a crease between his eyebrows and dark shadows underneath his eyes. Dean thinks it must have something to do with the angels falling. For crying out loud, the guy spent three days on the streets. Alone. With nothing else to think about.

“Cas?” he asks every morning. “You wanna talk about it?”

But the former angel just shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee. Dean leaves him to it. Sam keeps saying someone should talk to him, but Dean knows better. If Cas needs help, he’ll ask for it. Nightmares are not something you want to just intrude upon. They take time.

Instead, Dean tries to make Cas’ new life as a human as fun as possible. He introduces him to Star Trek so that he can finally have someone to talk to about it. They go into town and get Cas some fancy coffee. They get a ping-pong table, which Cas is somehow extremely good at. Dean expects to have a lot to show Cas about living as a human, but he adjusts pretty well. Sometimes the guy forgets to eat, but that’s normal. After all, he’s never really had a reason to until now.

He and Sam decide that hunting can wait for a while. They’re all overwhelmed, Sam is still not a hundred percent, Kevin’s frustrated that this still isn’t over, and Cas needs time. Dean’s just happy they’re all okay.

Dean is cleaning up after he and Cas are done watching the Star Trek reboot, when he hears a noise down the hall. Cas is already in bed and Dean is making sure the kitchen is spotless before he heads to bed himself. He hears the noise again and realizes it’s coming from Cas’ room. Jumping into hunter mode, he rushes down the hallway. He slides to a stop in the doorframe and realizes Cas is having another nightmare. 

It’s one thing to see him after he wakes up. Now, however, Dean’s stomach clenches painfully at the sight of Cas looking so distressed, and Dean throws out everything he’s been saying about time and Cas’ ability to handle it on his own out the window. His head clouds up and he knows should do something, but cool, collected Cas looks like he’s tearing apart from the inside. And Dean freezes.

Dean is still frozen when he hears Cas choke out his name and his heart drops. He slowly makes his way over to the bed and puts a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

“Cas,” he whispers. “Cas, wake up. Cas, you’re dreaming.”

Dean sinks down and sits on the edge of the bed. Castiel is unresponsive, his face twisting into a grimace, and Dean is at a loss. His shaking becomes more urgent, his voice more frantic, as he repeats Castiel’s name.

“Cas. Cas, come on man, wake up,” and finally, _finally_ , Cas bolts up with a cry and gathers the blankets around him. His breathing is erratic and his eyes are unfocused. His eyes widen when he sees Dean and he leans into him. Cas places a hand on his cheek, much like he did in the crypt months ago, and stares at him. Dean watches the panic fade from his friend’s eyes as something much warmer takes its place. Relief, he thinks suddenly, and shit he knows how that feels. 

“Dean,” Cas breathes. “You’re okay.”

Something painful twists at the center of Dean’s chest because, holy shit, Cas’ nightmares are about _him_. Cas looks so haunted every morning because he is dreaming about _him_ , not the fallen brothers and sisters he was sure was the root of the problem. Dean covers Cas’ hand with his own and squeezes. He pulls the hand into his lap and starts absentmindedly rubbing circles into the palm of Castiel’s hand. 

“‘Course I’m okay Cas,” he says. “It was just a dream. It wasn’t real.”

And Cas just chuckles and says, “You have nightmares about Hell don’t you?”

And for a moment Dean is angry because this is not about him right now and Cas needs to talk about his problems not Dean’s and, _oh_. Hell is a _memory_. Cas isn’t dreaming, he’s _remembering_.

“Cas if this is about what happened in the crypt I told you it’s—“

“It’s not. Not really.”

“You wanna elaborate?”

There’s panic in his eyes again and he looks away suddenly. His fingers twitch and Dean suddenly remembers that he’s kinda holding Cas’ hand and damn it his cheeks are not turning red it’s just kinda warm in here. And he thinks briefly about letting go but Cas needs him. He needs to see that Dean is okay because there is something he doesn’t want Dean to know and whatever it is, it’s hurting him.

“Cas, you can tell me. We’re family right?”

Cas flinches a little at the word family, his breath hitches and Dean remembers just a few weeks ago when Cas almost had a panic attack at a payphone in the middle of nowhere.

“Breathe, man. You’re here, I’m fine, Sammy and Kev are down the hall. Whatever happened, it’s in the past and we are all here now. Don’t freak out on me okay? You can tell me when you are ready.”

Cas nods, and Dean slowly moves his hands away. He places both hands on the mattress to push himself up, but Cas stops him.

“Naomi,” Cas starts. He pauses and his brow furrows. He takes a few deep breaths and for a moment, Dean thinks that’s all he will get out of Castiel tonight. But out of the corner of his eye he sees Cas’ hand twitch toward him and he takes it between his again to resume rubbing circles into his palm. Something shifts in Cas then and he sits up straighter.

“Naomi,” he says again with more resolve, “knew that only one thing would stop me from getting the angel tablet when I found it. So she trained me and made me overcome that obstacle over and over and over again. She made sure I could do it quickly and without hesitation.”

As Cas talks, the circles Dean is rubbing into his hand slow to a stop. Dean feels the horror creep onto his face and he stares at Cas, his lips parted slightly in shock. His whole body is numb and a ringing fills his ears, almost as though someone left the television on somewhere far, far away.

“Me,” he whispers when he finds his voice, and it is less of a question and more like reality hitting him so hard he can barely breathe.

Cas nods once and gently pulls his hand out from between Dean’s. He buries both of his hands in his lap and stares down at them, avoiding Dean’s gaze.

“You,” he confirms.

“How?”

“She made a new copy of you until I got it right. The first couple hundred were extremely difficult, I assure you. I distinctly recall her doing the job herself more than a few times. But then it got easier and easier and eventually I could do it without a thought or a care. It became a reflex, second nature. I was completely detached from any emotional connection I once had with you. It’s something I cannot undo, and I am deeply sorry that it happened.”

Dean’s brain feels like it will never work correctly again. Everything Cas just told him refuses to stick, each piece of information there and gone in a matter of seconds. Cas has killed him, Cas watched Naomi kill him, Naomi made Cas kill him, Naomi made Cas kill him over and over, and holy shit did Cas say the first couple _hundred_? Cas _killed_ him and anger and sadness and maybe a few more unpleasant emotions have decided to fight to the death pretty much right under his sternum and his ribs are surely caving in. And right when Dean thinks his brain might just go radio silence on him for the rest of his life, a memory lights like a spark and he has to keep from shouting. It is, after all the dead of night, and people are sleeping.

So instead he leans down to catch Castiel’s eye and says, “But you didn’t.” He feels the smile light up his face. The cage match in his chest is won by the underdog, and joy surges to every part of his body.

“She trained you for months,” he says, grinning. “And you couldn’t do it. And that’s the most important part.”

Cas smiles shyly at him.

“No,” he admits. “All the copies weren’t quite right. She assumed you would beg for your life, not for mine.”

“I didn’t—“

“You did. If I had truly ended your life in the crypt, it would have destroyed me. You brought me back. You broke the connection. You begged me to save my own life, Dean, and in doing so, you saved yours. Even though it wasn’t your primary focus.”

And damn, what can a guy say after that?

For a while, they share a pleasant silence and everything Dean could possibly say dies before it reaches his tongue. You’re welcome isn’t appropriate, nor is thanks for not sticking an angel blade in my throat.

“So that’s what you dream about,” he finally says.

Cas tilts his head to the side slightly. He looks like he might be considering something and he thinks for a few more moments before he replies.

“In a way, yes. But also no,” he admits. “I dream every night that I do kill you in that crypt. But this time I feel every emotion flood back to me when I look at you on the ground. And I look up to see hundreds of you staring lifelessly back at me just like in training. I wake up then and every night it’s the same. Every night I climb out of bed and go to your room to make sure you’re still here. Of course, you always are, but I find it hard to go back to sleep after that.”

Dean is once again at a loss for words and the only thing he can do is pull the former angel into a one-armed hug. Cas relaxes and rests his head under Dean’s chin.

“I’m glad you’re still here Dean.” 

Dean swallows a lump in his throat. He feels a scuffle under his ribs and maybe his emotions will start fighting again. He’s furious that Naomi put Cas through that, and absolutely wrecked when he thinks about what Cas must have been feeling. Happiness, however, stops the fighting before it even starts because he is just glad Cas is here. He may be damaged and hurting and not an angel anymore, but he’s still Cas. He’s still Dean’s best friend. 

“I’m glad you’re here too Cas.”

Dean feels the responding smile. He moves out from under Cas just slightly, and pushes back so he is resting against the headboard. He guides Cas so he is leaning more against his chest than his shoulder and Cas looks up at him in confusion. 

“Go back to sleep,” Dean tells him. “I’ll be here when you wake up, in case you need to check.”

Cas seems to like this idea, and he shifts to find a comfortable position. Cas does not snuggle into him. Dean would rather think of it as burrowing or huddling or something like that. It’s just one friend helping another friend fall asleep. Dean decides, however, that soothing his angel is more important than worrying about cuddling. One of Dean’s arms is still wrapped around Cas and Cas’ arm is wrapped loosely behind Dean’s back. As Cas’ breathing evens out, Dean pulls Cas’ free hand in front of him, and rubs those little circles over the top of it. If Sam or Kevin finds them in the morning, he’ll be embarrassed but now is not the time.

He must fall asleep, because the next time he opens his eyes, sunlight is filtering through the curtains. Dean looks down at Cas. He’s sleeping peacefully, a small smile on his face, and Dean figures it’s the best sleep Cas has gotten since he fell. And that’s good enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I figure at this point, all of this could happen. Dean got pretty huggy in season 8. But I really need season 9.


End file.
